


it's a fine line (will you be mine)

by toffifee (orphan_account)



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 13:16:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17788100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/toffifee
Summary: “What is it?”“You think I’m hot?” Hope asks in typical straightforward manner, and Josie chokes on air and the memory of dream-Hope caressing her thighs.





	it's a fine line (will you be mine)

**Author's Note:**

> A mostly fluffy sequel to [got a secret (can you keep it)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17719841) in which mostly fluffy things happen between an awakward conversation or two. Have I mentioned there's fluff?

 

“You had a sex dream about me?”

Josie shakes her head furiously as the tell-tale warmth creeps up from her neck to her cheeks. No, no, wrong dream. She’d only mentioned a weird dream, so she has no idea why Hope instantly thought of –

“Because you made that face you’re always making when you’re embarrassed about something,” Hope begins to explain, and, oh, Josie didn’t realize she’d expressed her confusion out loud. There’s a chance she isn’t entirely awake yet.  

“What – what face?”

Hope hums. “Your eyes go all wide and you look down and to the side like you can’t bear making eye contact with the person you’re talking to. And you purse your lips a little like you bit into a lemon, and then –”

“Okay! Okay, I get it, I have an embarrassed face that gives me away.”

Josie wonders just how many times said expression must have taken over her face for even Hope, out of everyone, to notice. Then again, Hope did have a tendency to notice things about Josie that other people simple did not or preferred not to address. Josie tries not to think about it too much, but, as if having a mind of its own, her hand flies up to the talisman buzzing lightly on her chest with Hope’s magic.  

“So when you said you had to tell me something about a weird dream and you were making that face, I assumed you meant a sex dream,” Hope finishes explaining, serene and smiling like her line of reasoning should have been obvious.  

It seems reasonable enough, Josie supposes. In their world, dreams involving monsters that technically shouldn’t even exist would have been significantly less unusual and definitely not mortifying.

“Right. Well, no, Lizzie had –”

“ _Lizzie_ had a sex dream about me?” Hope screeches then, loud enough to catch the attention of a couple of younger students sitting nearby, eating their breakfast with half-closed eyes that become comically alert all of a sudden. Hope glares at them until their busy themselves with their cereal bowls again.

Josie lets out a short laugh that sounds a little hysterical as she shakes her head and rushes to cover her face with her hands. This is terrible. The only way this could get worse was if her dad was around to hear the conversation as well.  She wants the ground to open up and swallow her whole.

“So, uh,” Hope tries again, pulling gently at one of Josie’s sleeves, “Lizzie had a dream about you and me –”

“Flirting,” Josie clarifies, cheeks burning up like a bonfire. Might as well get straight to the point, it’s not like this morning could get any more awkward. “Also, you were a superhero. Wearing a catsuit and everything. And apparently I was really into that.”

In for a penny, in for a pound.

Hope furrows her brows in concentration, most likely trying to picture herself in the dream world Lizzie had no trouble vividly painting for Josie. So vividly that Josie’s brain can’t stop creating new images that make her self-control feel like a joke. She huffs out a defeated sigh.

Eventually, Hope shrugs. “So this is why she’s been glaringly at me lately? I mean, more than usual.”

Another embarrassed chuckle tumbles out of Josie’s mouth. “She’s convinced I think you’re so hot that I’m just gonna start following you around and abandon her.”

It sounded ridiculous enough while the words were safely hidden inside her head, buried under layers and layer of concerns and doubts, but voicing them out and giving life to that particular thought makes the entire situation seem hilariously surreal. It’s ridiculous, Hope surely has to agree.

But Hope tilts her head to side, squinting a little as her eyes seek out Josie’s with intent. Stubborn. The measuring look Hope gives her then makes Josie feel like she was caught with her hand in the metaphorical cookie jar.

“What is it?”

“You think I’m hot?” Hope asks in typical straightforward manner, and Josie chokes on air and the memory of dream-Hope caressing her thighs.

The morning officially just got exponentially more awkward. This is what she gets for jinxing it, Josie grumbles to herself, arms crossing over her chest almost of their own accord.

It’s not that she couldn’t pay Hope a compliment if she wanted to. For all that she’s used to holding back when it comes to boys, shoving most signs of interest back inside her ribcage because she’s had to learn the hard way one too many times that the boys she likes tend to prefer Lizzie, Josie doesn’t feel anywhere near as clumsy and constrained around girls. There is no reason to put a leash on her emotions for fear of getting in the way of Lizzie’s happiness, not with girls. The problem here is – Hope and the way she makes Josie’s stomach do unexpected somersaults. Josie is still trying to come to terms with the fact that it’s possible she might like Hope in ways that were completely unplanned.

The silence stretches on and there is a hint of a smirk on Hope’s lips when Josie’s eyes flit down for a traitorous second, a silent acknowledgment. Josie swallows nervously and looks down at the books next to her plate, suddenly acutely aware that she was making once more the embarrassed face Hope had pointed out earlier. The realization brings fire to her cheeks again.

“You’re gonna be late to class, Hope,” she says in lieu of an answer, fingers crossed under the table that her face stops revealing things she has yet to admit to herself. To her own despair, she can feel the flush intensifying instead. 

Hope doesn’t say anything at all, simply gathers her books and slips her phone into the pocket of her uniform skirt. When Josie glances up, because her self-control is as stupid and infatuated as the rest of her, the smirk on Hope’s lips has gone from barely noticeable to as subtle as a blaring alarm.

 

 

It snowballs from that morning onwards.

 

 

Growing up with a twin as sensitive as Lizzie has taught Josie to be constantly on the lookout for potential danger. The kind of danger that was born out of Lizzie being overeager and typically resulted in her ego taking a blow. Josie doesn’t fault Lizzie for wanting to be liked and popular, but she also knows that Lizzie has yet to learn feelings can’t be forced, willed into existence solely because Lizzie believes they’re owed to her.

Hope is probably the person who over the years has managed to deliver the most gut kicks to Lizzie’s somewhat misguided sense of self-importance. As a consequence, Josie is used to being hyperaware of Hope’s presence and actions even when their paths don’t cross; not feeling the blue eyes on her when Hope actually is focusing on Josie would be impossible.

It isn’t uncomfortable, having Hope seek her out from afar so often and unmistakably. It isn’t unpleasant. Just – unusual. The goosebumps on her forearms alert Josie every time, heartbeat picking up speed as she starts looking around to find Hope a few feet away, to her side, behind her, across the room, already watching her. There’s a puzzled expression on her face most of the time, brows drawn together as if in deep thought, but whenever her eyes meet Josie’s, Hope smiles. Each time, without fail.

 

 

One night, as she’s chasing sleep without much success, Josie realizes that she’s never really considered the possibility of Hope paying attention to her being anything other than friendly; not before the dreams started. She’s pretty sure Hope hasn’t, either.

As the signs pushed out of her dreams and into her heart begin to crystalize, Josie reminds herself that she had a head start. Hope deserves a moment to just be confused, too.

 

 

It’s the fact Hope seems to have something to be confused about that makes Josie feel like – well.

It allows her to keep dreaming.

 

 

She finds Hope in the gym, starfished on a mattress while the punching bag swings lightly by her side. Josie takes a couple steps and stops just on the edge of the basketball court. She knows Hope’s supernatural abilities and the training sessions with her dad make Hope probably the best fighter out of their entire student body, but in that moment, quiet and exhausted, she just looks – harmless. Small.

“Did the punching bag win?”

Hope all but jumps to her feet, but her posture relaxes again when her eyes find Josie and then flicker down to the stack of papers in her arms. She raises an eyebrow. “Obviously not,” she says, and delivers another punch to the bag seemingly just for the fun of it. “Just taking a well-deserved break. What’s up?”

Hope drops back onto the mattress, crossing her legs, patting the spot next to her. Josie doesn’t even try to fight back a smile as she kneels on the dusty mattress and places the papers between them. She clears her throat. “As the representative of our Council's witch faction,” she begins, chuckling at the look Hope gives her for the unnecessary formality before she shrugs and lets her tone return to normal as she picks up a sheet of paper. “I’ve been looking at some offensive spells. And since you’re more familiar with them than I am, I wanted to ask for your opinion before I showed them to the teachers. I don’t want to suggest anything too – destructive. Just some light stuff to begin with. Inconveniencing the enemy a little, not blowing their head off straight away.”

Hope laughs. “Why not, if they’re the enemy then they deserve it.”

Josie gives her a pointed look; she knows it’s judgmental. Hope returns it with the same intensity, but to Josie’s surprise she gives in without making an attempt to defend her impulsive tendencies or her questionable sense of humor. “Fine,” Hope grumbles and takes the list from Josie’s hand. “Just some light stuff.”

“For now,” Josie adds, just in case. She knows at least the older students will need to learn some more aggressive spells, but she also believes they should learn to master the simple ones before they try to take a monster apart with incantations no one but Hope knows yet.

Hope nods, reading over the list with attentive eyes. “Your dad wants us to have sparring classes, by the way, don’t know if he told you about that. Like actual sparring classes. He planned them for the vamps and the wolves, but I said witches should join too.” She looks up at Josie, blue eyes clouded by unpleasant memories. “You can’t depend on magic all the time.”

It’s Josie's turn to nod in understanding. There are too many ways witches can have their magic stripped away, even if only temporarily. It happened to Hope, too. She knows it’s dangerous to think that magic can make witches invincible, that it can save everyone all the time; knows it’s particularly dangerous for witches like her and Lizzie.

“You and Lizzie especially,” Hope goes on, as if reading Josie’s mind. Then again, Josie thinks to herself, maybe she also has a very specific worried face that gives her away. It wouldn’t surprise her anymore if Hope noticed that one as well. “Who knows what other creatures are planning to come visit, it could get especially tricky for the two of you if there’s no source of magic around.”

“But I have one,” Josie cuts in, sounding terribly hopeful and naïve to her own ears, but. She can’t help it. “I have it on me, all the time.”

Hope’s eyes zero in on the talisman just as Josie’s fingertips reach the crest engraved on the pendant. It’s buzzing a little, like it always is, just a gentle reminder of the powerful magic inside. It’s warm also, which is fitting since that’s how Josie feels about the way Hope quietly pays attention and considers every aspect of a situation that involves Josie. The way she looks for a solution before Josie has the chance to ask for help. The way she knows Josie wouldn’t actually ask for help.

Hope looks out for her, plain and simple. She’s been doing it for a while.

A small hand covers hers where it’s resting between her own bony knees and Hope’s still crossed legs. Josie glances down just to take in how their hands fit like the ingredients for a spell that makes the air around them crackle with a different kind of magic. She notices how easy it would be to just turn her palm up and tangle their fingers together. Where do we go from here.

It gets harder to breathe, so she looks up again. Looks into Hope’s eyes instead even as her skin heats up.

“You could lose it,” Hope says then with a devil-may-care shrug, but the way her grip tightens on Josie’s hand tells an entirely different story. “Or someone could take it away from you.”

“I won’t let that happen,” says Josie, and even she is taken aback by determination she can hear in her voice.

It sounds like a warning, Josie thinks, a preemptive battle cry. Should anyone try to separate her from what is now hers, she will not go down without a fight.

She looks at where her hand and Hope’s are still joined, fingers slipping between fingers, and thinks – it sounds like a promise.   

 

 

One time, Hope waves at her as they find themselves on opposite ends of the hallway, and her cheeks turn the color of her hair when she realizes what she’s doing. Josie can’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.

 

 

When Josie dreams now, it’s of warmth. The kind of warmth that only a glowing heart could bring. She dreams of holding Hope’s hand, and of Lizzie knowing and not having nightmares about it, and of her dad sitting them both down to warn them about breaking each other’s hearts.

She dreams of love being simple.

 

 

“Do you wanna go out sometime?”

Josie chokes on the brownie stolen from Lizzie’s secret stash. Because of Hope suddenly materializing next to her, or because of the question, or because of both, she doesn’t even know. She can’t remember how to draw air into her lungs, she needs to take care of that first before figuring out the rest.

Hope thumps her lightly on her back, eyes wide with worry. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have sprung that on you like this –” she starts apologizing, but Josie waves it away with a nervous arm movement and an even more panicked chuckle.

“On a date?”

Hope gives her a look that sits somewhere between a question and a confession. “I mean. Only if you want to? But. Yes. On a date.” She seems conflicted for a minute, teeth worrying at her bottom lip, eyes darting from side to side until it bursts out of her. “You’ve been looking at me – differently, for weeks now. But you never say anything. And I kept thinking about what you told me, about Lizzie’s dream, and how flustered you were that morning, and hey, weirder things have happened, so I kept waiting for you to ask me out because I really have no idea how to do this, but you never did, so then I thought I might as well give it shot because what’s the worst thing that could happen, right, you’re gonna say no and be totally creeped out by my ramblings, but –”

“Hope,” Josie stops her with a butterfly laugh and a hand on her arm. For a split second she wonders; hesitates. But then she lets her hand slide down, fingertips brushing soft skin and leaving a trail of delicate goosebumps behind. When her fingers slip past the small wrist, she taps them tentatively against Hope’s own; Hope allows it. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

The smile Hope gives her then is – familiar and not. Josie’s seen it before, on the rare occasions when Hope opens her door to happiness without second thoughts. It’s the smile that makes her cheeks look like rosy bubbles and turns her eyes into little half-moons; makes her look away for a short, overwhelming moment. But it’s the first time Josie sees Hope smile like that and thinks, helplessly, _you’re beautiful_. She thinks, heart aching a little as the ever-present storm in Hope’s eyes seems to quiet down for once, _I want to kiss you_.

So, she does.

She can’t suppress a smile of her own when she realizes Hope is kissing her back.  

 


End file.
